Werewolf
by cellorocksmyworld
Summary: Lupin returns to Hogwarts in Harry's 6th year. There is a plot to kill Dumbledore and Harry, but it depends on Lupin. Will he fall into the trap, or will he foil the plan? EPILOGUE UP!
1. Chapter 1

Werewolf, Chapter 1

Summary: Lupin comes back to Hogwarts in Harry's sixth year. Someone is trying to murder Albus Dumbledore, and if it's possible, the Boy-Who-Lived. But the plan depends of Lupin. Will Lupin fall into the trap, or will he be able to prevent the plan from being carried out?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, of this I am glad because I would not personally want to write a 700 page book all the while wondering if it's going to be good enough or if I'm going to have to go into hiding in order to avoid the millions of angry readers. Thank you for your time.

HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! THIS IS MY FIRST FANFICTION, SO I HAVE NO IDEA IF I'M DOING THIS RIGHT! PLEASE REVIEW AND GIVE SUGGESTIONS. I REALLY NEED THEM!

Lupin entered the Great Hall with much trepidation. _This is not a good idea,_ he thought to himself. He held Dumbledore in highest esteem, he had since he was eight years old, but he could not help but doubt the man's sanity when he requested, no, ordered, Lupin's presence at Hogwarts this year. He would be assuming the teaching position that he had abandoned two years earlier for reasons that still, and always would, exist. He couldn't imagine how Dumbledore had managed to convince the Ministry, and the parents for that matter, that their children would be safe being taught by the likes of Remus Lupin.

Because everyone knew now. The entire wizarding world knew what he was, what happened to him every month at the full moon. This was mostly thanks to a controversial article in the Daily Prophet two years ago that featured his face plastered across the front page accompanied by unpleasantly pulsating neon green letters which spelled out the words, WEREWOLF TERRORIZES HOGWARTS. This was followed by the only article Rita Skeeter had ever written that Remus actually agreed with. That night on the Hogwarts grounds was chalked up there as one of the worst nights of his life. It was actually quite a long list, but that incident was certainly in the top five, if not the top three. If it hadn't been for Sirius, Harry Potter and his friends would almost certainly be dead now. The fact that Severus Snape and Peter Pettigrew would be too was hardly a comfort….

Lupin shuddered and forced the thoughts from his mind. The fact of the matter was that he _was_ dangerous, no matter what potions he drank, no matter how many precautions he took. There was always the chance that he would break free, that the _monster _would break free….

He shuddered again. What was Albus thinking, bringing him here?

But this was not the time or the place to ponder the inner workings of Albus Dumbledore's mind. Even as Lupin took his seat at the staff table, the doors of the Hall opened and the students came pouring in, chattering excitedly. The mass separated as students went to their different House tables. He caught a glimpse of Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they sat down next to Ron's sister Ginny and Neville Longbottom, both of whom, from what Lupin had heard, had been in the Hall of Prophecies with the threesome last year. He did not try to catch their eye. In fact, he did his best to look completely invisible. He had no idea what the students' reactions would be when they noticed he was there, but he had no intention of finding out until it was absolutely necessary. Luck was not on his side, however. Hagrid, who came in slightly after the first flood of students, looking completely soaked from the lake, caught sight of Remus and shouted his name for the entire Hall to hear. Lupin felt his cheeks burn as every eye in the Hall turned to look at him. It was at times like these that he wished he could just sink into the floor and be out of sight. The enormous Care of Magical Creatures teacher was having none of that though. Hagrid strode across the floor, yanked the petrified Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher out of his chair and gave him a brotherly hug. Lupin's feet were dangling a full meter above the ground. Finally Hagrid let him go and, gasping and rubbing his ribs, every one of which felt broken, Lupin greeted Hagrid too. Before heading to his seat, the giant man pounded Remus jovially on the back, sending him crashing into the table. This earned him a dirty look from Professor McGonagall and a very sore kneecap. He rubbed it tenderly and tried to ignore the mutterings that echoed around the hall as he sat down again. He kept his eyes focused on the reflected light in his goblet and tried not to turn an even deeper shade of red.

The doors of the Hall opened and a crowd of first years shuffled down the middle aisle on the way to their sorting. The ripped and tattered Sorting Hat sat on a stool right in front of the staff table. The Sorting began, and though Lupin clapped politely as each child scurried away to their respectful table, he wasn't really paying any attention. Lost in his own thoughts, he jerked awake when he heard the familiar name, "Clarkson, Handel!" The boy who stepped forward was the spitting image of his father Lance, a Ravenclaw two years older than Lupin whom the Marauders had hated almost as much as Snape. They had never understood why Lance was a Ravenclaw and not a Slytherin. It just didn't seem right to hate someone who wasn't in the same House as their archenemy. To his surprise, young Handel was not a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin, but a Hufflepuff. Hmmm…thought Lupin. Maybe there's some hope for the boy after all. An entirely unteacherlike thing to say, but he couldn't help but think that there was no way he was going to have this job for long. The rest of the Sorting passed without incident, and Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet to address the students. All noise abruptly vanished, and the Headmaster began to speak.

"And so another year at Hogwarts begins. Before you become too stuffed to pay any attention to me, I must say a few things. First of all, all goods bought at the joke shop "Weasley's Wizarding Wheazes" are henceforth banned from the school, as ordered by Argus Filch."

A fair amount of the students looked rather put off by this and there was some irritated grumbling. Dumbledore plowed right through.

"The forest on the grounds is off limits to students, and that includes several sixth years who should know the rules by now."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked down at their plates sheepishly. Lupin bit back a grin.

"And I have one teacher to intoduce to you." continued Dumbledore. Lupin's stomach lurched. "Though a lot of you already know him, Remus Lupin," he gestured down the staff table at him and Remus nodded as a smattering of applause resounded throughout the Hall. He grinned as he heard Ron give a whoop, "has kindly agreed to return to us this year and fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as Professor Umbridge is still in St. Mungo's and entirely unavailable."

A few snickers rang out. Even among the Slytherins, Umbridge had not been popular. Lupin felt a surge of anger at the name. Dolores was terribly prejudiced against non-human magical beings, werewolves being one of them. It was this prejudice that had landed her in St. Mungo's at the end of last year, after insulting a herd of centaurs. Remus hoped she had learned her lesson, but that was probably wishful thinking.

Dumbledore was speaking again. "That's all the announcements for tonight. I'm sure you're hungry, so dig in." He sat down as food appeared on the tables. Immediately the Great Hall erupted with the sound of happy, hungry children. Lupin, however, eyed the food with distaste. Last night had been the full moon and, rather stupidly, he had forgotten to eat anything before transforming. Starving and unable to reach anything in his kitchen's cupboards, he had been forced to catch and eat a rabbit. He had been feeling slightly nauseous ever since. Turning away from a particularly bloody slab of rare steak, the sight of which left his stomach heaving, he began a conversation with Professor Flitwick on the effectiveness of the Partis Charm.

"He doesn't look to good does he?" mumbled Ron, mouth full with Yorkshire pudding. Harry and Hermione already knew who he was talking about. They turned to the staff table in time to see Professor Lupin turn slightly green at the sight of the steak in front of him and quickly begin a conversation with Professor Flitwick.

"Of course he doesn't Ron!" cried Hermione, exasperated. "It was full moon last night wasn't it?"

"He never looks too great anyway." said Harry truthfully. "It's good to have him back though, isn't it? We haven't seen him for two years, and he'll put Professor Umbridge to shame."

His friends agreed wholeheartedly. Hagrid's giant brother would be a better Defense against the Dark Arts teacher than Umbridge, but luckily, that was not necessary. Harry looked at Hermione, who was frowning slightly as she chased a pea around her plate with her fork.

"What is it Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione gave up trying to catch the rogue vegetable and looked up at her friend.

"I was just wondering how Professor Dumbledore managed to convince the Ministry to let Lupin teach here. I mean, it's not as though it's a secret anymore that he's a werewolf, what with that horrible article in the Daily Prophet."

"I wasn't thinking of the Ministry." said Harry. "I was wondering how Dumbledore managed to convince Lupin himself. When he left at the end of third year, he made it pretty clear to me that he didn't think he should be here. Said he was endangering the students."

"Codswallop!" exclaimed Ron, spewing half-chewed baked potato across the table and into Ginny's lap. Ignoring her disgusted protests, he swallowed and continued to speak.

"That night was entirely not his fault! If it hadn't been for us, he would have been in the castle the whole time and it never would have happened!"

"I know." Hermione said mournfully. "But he doesn't see it that way does he? I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore ordered him to come as a mission for the Order."

Harry and Ron choked.

"Wha-?" Ron gasped.

"Lupin's in-?" Harry began.

"The Order?" Hermione looked surprised. "Yes! Didn't you know?"

Both boys shook their heads dumbly.

Hermione looked quite astonished. "Your mum told me." she said, pointing at ron. "I wonder why she didn't tell you?"

Ron shrugged, confused. Harry, however, was unconvinced. "If Lupin's in the Order, how come we've never seen him at headquarters?" he asked.

"He was probably off on missions while we were there." Hermione leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I heard Dumbledore once, talking about having a spy among the werewolves working for You-Know-Who."

At that moment, Katie Bell plunked herself down across the table from the trio and beamed at Harry.

"So I hear you're Quidditch Captain this year." she said excitedly.

Harry grinned and nodded, happy to be talking about something a little more cheerful than the secret missions of the Order which was founded to bring down the most dangerous wizard in the history of the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Werewolf, Chapter 2:

Remus Lupin stood outside the door of his classroom, feeling more than a little nervous. How would his students react to seeing him up close? Would they be afraid? Would they hate him? Would they pity him? He couldn't decide which was worse.

He'd been staring at the door for a full minute now, gathering the courage to open it. He was extremely tempted to run back down the hallway and hide in a broom closet, but he knew he was being ridiculous. Here was Remus John Lupin, werewolf, Marauder, and senior member of the Order of the Pheonix, afraid of a classroom full of adolescents. He was about to bite the bullet and walk inside, when somebody touched his elbow. He turned around and came face to face with Hermione Granger. He instantly turned bright red.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, dreading the answer. He could almost sense her smiling as he stared down at his feet.

"Almost two minutes." Remus continued to concentrate on his shoes. He had never noticed how many small tears and holes there were in them. He would have to remedy that before the first snows came.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired, tilting her head slightly. Lupin glanced at her quickly before continuing his inspection of his shoes.

"Uhhh…." he said intelligently. Oh whatever, might as well start out the year honestly. "I was actually looking for a place to hide. You don't happen to know any do you?"

To his surprise, Hermione laughed, softly and sweetly. He grinned uncertainly.

"Nervous?" she asked quietly. Lupin nodded, shamefaced. "It's okay, Dumbledore gave you a break with your first class. You've got nothing but friends in here." His features brightened considerably. "Come on." she urged. "You'll do fine." And with that, she opened the door and pushed him in.

When the bell rang, Professor Lupin was grinning sincerely. The first class of the year had been a success. Of course there had been a little uncertainty at first, as Lupin got used to the idea that every single person in the room knew his secret, but the tension had dissipated immediately when he asked how they had been for the past two years. The students immediately launched on a tirade against the absolutely insane, and ultimately fake Professor Moody who performed Unforgivable Curses on spiders (Ron turned distinctly pale at this), and the absolutely infuriating, and ultimately punished Professor Umbridge, who refused to teach them any magic at all. By the time they were done, everyone was laughing and the atmosphere was back to normal. He then proceeded to teach them about gnomes, both wild and garden. He took them out to the garden on the grounds and set them loose on the unsuspecting gnome population. With the help of Harry and Ron, who seemed exceptionally adept at the task, Lupin soon had his entire class throwing gnomes, punting gnomes, and doing whatever it took to completely degnome the garden. He only hoped the gnomes would limp back in time for his next sixth year class.

Feeling much more confident, the Professor managed to get through all of his classes without incident. He had a feeling that his students (excluding the Slytherins) might even _like _him as their teacher. He had certainly managed to impress a few second year boys when he threw a gnome a full twenty meters and in through the second story window of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Judging by the screeches and shouts heard from inside, he would guess that Minerva had been in the middle of a class. Doubled over with laughter, he had shooed the excited second years back into the school before someone stuck their head out the window and saw them. Even after seventeen years, he still held that schoolboy fear of Professor McGonagall's wrath. However, when she showed up for dinner with her hat falling off and her robes smeared with dirt, he just couldn't resist saying, "If I didn't know better, I would say that you had a run in with a garden gnome. But how would a garden gnome get in to a second story classroom?"

She screeched, seized him by the ear, and marched him down the length of the Hall past snickering students, yelling at him about this and that and how it was not considered good manners to THROW A GARDEN GNOME INTO SOMEONE'S CLASSROOM WHILE THERE WERE PEOPLE IN IT. At this, the Hall erupted with laughter, and Minerva deposited him in his seat. He tried, and failed, to keep a straight face.

"So are you saying that I can throw a garden gnome into your classroom when there aren't any people in it?"

There was another shout of laughter. The flustered Transfiguration teacher, who couldn't seem to think of anything to say, just waved her finger threateningly at him. The students only settled down when she gave them all a very dirty look and collapsed in her seat. Lupin didn't stop laughing for five minutes.

All in all, it had been a good day. His students liked him, hardly anyone judged him by his condition, and he had managed to get himself into a fair amount of innocent trouble. Life was good.

As Minerva McGonagall dragged Professor Lupin around the Great Hall by his ear, many miles away a much more sinister interaction was taking place. Two dark-clad figures met in the middle of a star-lit field. As they reached one another, the shorter one knelt and kissed the hem of the taller one's robes.

"My master." the kneeling figure whispered.

"You said you needed to speak to me." The standing man sounded impatient.

"Yes, yes. I do indeed need to speak to you, about something that could ensure our victory in this war." The servant seemed excited, like a dog expecting reward after fetching a stick.

"Get on with it then. I don't have much time."

The servant sighed, his dramatic moment ruined. "Albus Dumbledore has once again hired the werewolf."

For the first time in the conversation, the tall man seemed interested. He leaned forward, his servant backed away perceptibly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positively sure, sir."

The master laughed, high, cold, and cruelly. "Well, well! It seems as though our dear Professor isn't quite as careful as he used to be! Yes, we can turn this to our advantage quite easily. It will take time, and careful planning, but it can be done. I must think on this… I will contact you in the usual way when I have need of you." The servant rubbed his left forearm, shuddering at the mention of 'the usual way'. His master spoke again. "You have served me well, Litnor. I thank you."

The servant backed away, bowing and groveling. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you." He turned and disappeared into the high grass. The tall man stood for a while, thinking, and then he, too, turned and left.


	3. Chapter 3

Werewolf, Chapter 3 

As the class of Hufflepuff fourth years practiced their Patronus Charms, Remus Lupin sat at his desk with his head in his hands, trying hard not to nod off. Who knew that a month could go by so quickly? Time really does fly when you're having fun. Madam Pomfrey had wanted him to take the day off, but he didn't want to make it a habit to do so after every full moon. It just brought more attention to himself.

His students all eyed him with concern when they came into the classroom, but he made a point of smiling cheekily at them to restore their confidence. As lunchtime grew nearer however, he felt his energy lacking. _Maybe I'll skip lunch and have a short nap before my next class _he thought sleepily. He was rudely awakened from his bemused thoughts by a sharp rapping on the classroom door. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he got up and yanked it open. Professor Snape stood on the other side. When he saw his dishevelled, sleep-deprived colleague he raised an eyebrow and sneered. It was rather a strange thing to see, Remus had never quite figured out how he did it.

"Yes Sniv - er - Severus? What can I do for you?"

Snape paused for a moment and looked the smaller man over, as if sizing him up. After a long moment he spoke. "If you were thinking of taking a nap during lunch Remus, I'm sorry to say you're out of luck." He didn't sound very sorry at all, in fact, he sounded delighted. "The afternoon classes are being canceled, and I am giving a mandatory, full-school class on dueling."

Remus smiled pleasantly. "That's very nice to know Severus. I will inform my afternoon classes about the change in schedule. Thank you for telling me."

He made to close the door, but Snape pushed it open again.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily." he said, smiling unpleasantly. "In order to teach, I must be able to demonstrate. And that's where you come in."

Remus choked. The smile on Snape's face grew.

"I'll see you in the Great Hall in five minutes." he said, and with that, he closed the door in Lupin's shocked face.

* * *

Four minutes later, Lupin was still in his room, fuming. What the hell was Snape playing at, using him as dueling partner? Snape knew _bloody well_ what would happen if the two of them started fighting. There was too much old rivalry between them, and if they dredged it up again, one of them was going to get hurt. In front of the _entire school_. Now that would be bloody perfect.

The bell rang, and his students filed out of the room. Lupin, muttering curses under his breath, followed them to the Great Hall. When he got there, he saw that Snape had removed all the House tables. All that remained was the staff table at the far end of the Hall, on which Snape was now pacing, wand in hand. Lupin pushed his way through the crowd and approached the table, fully ready to give Snape a piece of his mind. But before he could reach him, Snape raised his hands for silence. The students slowly settled down, and Snape began to speak,.

"Some of you may not be aware of the reason for this little meeting," he began, "But the Headmaster wishes for all of you to have at least some basic training in dueling. Recent circumstances imply that nobody is completely safe from the threat of You-Know-Who…" A shiver seemed to run through the crowd. The Hall was now deathly silent. " So it is imperative that every person know how to defend themselves at least somewhat. I am aware that some people may already deem themselves to be experts in this area," He sneered and looked around at the crowd, as if searching out the culprits, "But no matter what _you _think, I am sure you all have something to learn here. Pay attention."

He beckoned Lupin forward, and Remus climbed onto the table reluctantly.

"Professor Lupin will be helping me with the demonstrations today, and-"

"Severus, can you come over here for a moment please?" Lupin's voice was casual, but there was anger simmering beneath the surface. Snape looked confused, but walked over anyway. The students instantly started whispering. Lupin waited until they were quite close to each other before hissing, "What are you thinking? You know just as well as I do that this will not be some innocent little demonstration! If we start fighting, we won't be able to stop ourselves!"

His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes glinted dangerously. Snape, however, just smirked.

"Scared, are we?" he whispered. Remus resisted the urge to punch him in the nose.

"I'm not scared, I just don't want to settle our old scores in front of the entire school!"

Snape looked supremely unconcerned, and simply said, "Don't worry Remus. I won't hurt you…too much." And then he turned back to the students.

* * *

"I'll bet he did this on purpose, just to get even with Lupin." Hermione hissed at Ron and Harry. They looked at her disbelievingly.

"No duh Hermione." Harry said sarcastically. She glared at him. They both looked back at Snape, who was telling the crowd about the Disarming Spell. Lupin was still standing on the end of the table, looking murderous.

"It's really quite a simple spell." Snape said, still pacing. "As you will see…"

Quick as lightening, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at Lupin. Lupin had barely looked up before Snape bellowed, "Expelliarmus!" Remus was blasted off the table and hit the wall with a sickening thud. Several people screamed. Harry yelled in fury and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Snape. Hermione hissed, "Don't!" and pulled his arm down. Several Slytherins, including Malfoy, were laughing hysterically. Harry looked back at Professor Lupin, now sprawled on the floor next to the wall. He was stirring, and Harry rushed to his side, followed soon after by Ron and Hermione. They helped him up, and it was then that Harry noticed a small trickle of blood running down the side of his face.

"C'mon Professor, we're taking you to the Hospital Wing." he said quietly. But Lupin shook them off and stalked back to the table.

"You want to settle old scores Snape!" he shouted. "You want to show me what you're really made of?" he bellowed as he jumped back onto the table. "Then let's finish it! Let's finish what we started all those years ago, that hatred that you can't seem to get out of your mind! C'mon, _Snivellus_."

And with that, he ripped his outer robes off and flung them to the floor. He stood there, breathing heavily and with a cold dark fury in his eyes, wearing nothing but dark trousers and an undershirt and gripping his wand so hard that Harry half expected it to snap in two.

Snape stood gaping at the slight man in front of him, having never seen him so angry. The students were just as astonished. Nobody had ever seen Lupin lose control before, it was something they had not thought was possible.

It took Snape a long time to recover. But when he did, his fury matched that of Lupin's.

"You always thought you were better than me." he hissed, ripping his robes off too. "Always going around with your stupid little gang. It was so quaint, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, stupid nicknames for stupid fools." He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt now. "You thought you tricked me didn't you, with your monthly excuses? I'll admit, it took me a while, but I finally figured out what you were. What you were hiding." He had finished with one sleeve and had progressed to the other. "And then your friend, Mr. _Sirius Black_ decided to play a little joke on me, didn't he? He told me how to get into the passage under the Whomping Willow, thought it would be funny if you tore me limb from limb." He had now finished rolling his sleeves and was now simply standing there, white faced, gripping his wand almost as tightly as Lupin. "And you almost did. I'll never forget that night, when I saw you for what you really are. A _monster_." Then he lifted his wand. Remus did the same. And the fight began.

* * *

The students watched the duel in horrid fascination. It was by far the fastest and most dangerous fight any of them had ever seen, except, of course, for Harry and the students who had been in the Hall of Prophecies the previous year. But even they were shocked at the ferocity that the two men poured into the fight. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this duel would not end until one or both of them were knocked out. Lupin, whose nose was bleeding profusely, had managed to knock Snape to the ground, but they were not making any more progress. Suddenly, Lupin began running down the length of the table, directly at Snape. He jumped off the end, flipped high over Snape's head, and disarmed him while still in the air. It was an amazing trick, made even more amazing by the fact that it worked. Lupin landed lightly on his feet and Snape's wand landed back on the table. Snape himself lay on the ground, gasping for breath, with Lupin's wand pointed directly at him. Everyone stood frozen for several long moments. The only sound was the gasps of the two teachers. Then, finally, Lupin lowered his wand. There was a loud sigh as everyone in the Hall let out the breath they had been holding. Lupin seemed to deflate as his anger left him. He put his wand back in his pocket and went to pick up his robes. Talking broke out among the students as everyone relived what they had just seen.

"Did you see that flip!"

"Yeah, I saw it. What about that Jelly-Legs Curse eh? Too bad Snape blocked it…"

"I wish _I_ could fight like that…"

None of them noticed when Snape, shaking with fury, stood up and seized his wand from the table. Not until it was too late.

"Professor Lupin, look out!"

For the second time that day, Lupin was caught entirely unprepared.

"Legilimors!" shouted Snape, sounding as though he were on the edge of his sanity. Lupin was knocked off his feet, and suddenly, the minds of everyone in the Hall were filled with memories not their own.

A small, brown-haired boy ran to his mother, laughing and smiling. The boy played with a little girl, maybe his sister. A tall, muscular man played with his children, laughing as he told them a story. And then the little boy was running through the woods, screaming and crying.

"Julia! Julia!" he shrieked. "Where are you!"

He was sobbing and shaking so badly he could barely stand, yet still he kept running.

"Juliaaaaa!"

And then, off to the right, there was a scream. The scream of a little girl. The boy turned toward the sound and kept running.

"Don't worry Julia! I'm coming!"

The boy stumbled and slipped and fell over, but he kept going, until at last, he came to a clearing. And it was there that he saw something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His little sister, being torn to pieces by a monster.

"Nooooooo!"

He was seeing red. He grabbed a fallen tree branch, not caring that it was twice his size, and ran toward the monster, not caring that he was making the mistake that would define him. All he cared about was putting that creature in as much pain as it had put his sister in.

He hit the werewolf with all the strength he could muster. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he raised the branch for another blow, but he was too late. The monster had recovered, and knocked the branch out of the boy's hands as easily as it would a toothpick. Then, without hesitation or regret, it launched itself at the boy's chest. It's teeth cut through the tender flesh of the boy's right side like scissors on wrapping paper. The sound of ribs breaking and desperate screams split the night air. Even as he vomited blood, the boy struggled against the creature holding him down. He reached down to his left boot with one shaking, bloodstained hand. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Grasping the handle of the knife, he pulled it out of his boot and slashed his attackers face with it. Howling, the monster released him. But only for a second. It attacked again, this time going for the boy's throat. But it had forgotten about the knife. It's eyes went wide as it entered it's windpipe. It backed away from the boy, wheezing. Then it collapsed.

A new memory, this time the boy was in a small room, the only light coming from a barred window near the ceiling. He was huddled in a corner, trembling and naked. When the light from the window began to dim, he looked up with wide, horrified eyes. Finally, the light died completely, and the boy whimpered in the darkness. And then the moon rose, the light filled the little room, and the boy began to scream…

"STOP IT!"

The boy's features began to soften and change shape as he shrieked in agony…

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

The image became blurred and distant, and young Lupin's screams faded and melded with those of his older self.

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

And suddenly, the image disappeared completely, and they were back in the Great Hall. Snape was lying on the ground, unconscious, his wand nowhere to be seen. Lupin was standing over him, wand in one shaking hand, tears streaming down his face.

The silence seemed to stretch for an age.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'M SORRY! I was away at camp for about a month, and soccer preseason just started, so I've been kind of lazy. I'll try to make it up to you guys somehow. Oh and by the way, I really have no idea who Litnor is, I just kind of randomly came up with a name for him. But don't worry, I'll fill out his character later on. Enjoy! 

P.S. If it seems too angsty, please tell me, I had some issues with this one, my brother was playing Linkin Park while I wrote it.

Werewolf, Chapter 4 

Remus sat on the grass at the edge of the lake, watching the ripples from the rock he had thrown move farther and farther apart. It soothed his mind to see something so utterly normal, so completely devoid of secrets and hidden meaning.

He had positively fled from the Great Hall after the fight. Noone had made any attempt to stop him, for that, at least, he was grateful. He had been sitting there for God knows how long, and he noticed that the sun was beginning to set, casting a dull red glow over the landscape.

_Red like…_

For a split second, Remus remembered the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, the way it ran through his fingers like water, but he pushed that memory into the deepest, darkest corner of his overtaxed mind. He tossed another rock into the water and tried to forget everything.

Footsteps sounded behind him. He looked around, and saw Hermione Granger drawing closer. She was looking at him as though he were a toddler who had thrown a tantrum and needed to be comforted. Suddenly, irrationally, anger flooded through him.

"If you've come to offer your pity," he spat viciously, "You can leave right now, I don't want it."

Hermione, however, seemed totally unfazed by his outburst. On the contrary, she looked as though she had been expecting it. Sitting down next to him and drawing her knees up to her chin, she said quite calmly, "Actually, I came out here to see the sunset." She smiled as she saw the disbelieving look on her teacher's face. "The enchanted ceiling only shows so much."

Ashamed of himself, Remus turned away from her and looked out at the surface of the lake once more. "Oh." he said intelligently.

"If you want me to leave, I will." Hermione said. She began to get up, but Remus shook his head.

"It's fine. I'm just…" he struggled to find the right words, "I'm just kind of upset, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

He looked down at his clasped hands ashamedly. Unconsciously, he began to trace a small scar on his index finger.

"It's alright Professor." Hermione said kindly. "I don't blame you, you have a right to be upset."

Remus winced, thinking that this remark would be followed by a long expression of pity or sympathy. He didn't know if he would be able to handle that, he might break down and cry again. But the girl said nothing more, and Remus silently thanked her with all his heart.

* * *

Hermione didn't know what to think. At first, Lupin had been angry, almost vicious, and now he seemed fragile, as if a single wrong word could send him spiraling into despair. She felt his pain. Strong as it was, it was almost impossible to ignore, but it seemed she couldn't comfort him without causing more damage. It was a frustrating situation, she couldn't think of what to say, so she said nothing. Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. The sun set in all its glory, but it went unnoticed by the pair, too wrapped up were they in their own troubles. Dusk came, and Hermione finally chose to speak.

"You really hit Snape hard with that curse," she said conversationally, "He's in the Hospital Wing with a concussion."

For the first time in a while, a ghost of a smile played across Lupin's time-worn face. He chuckled softly and said, "I know that it's rather immature of me to say this, but that news makes me indescribably happy."

Hermione laughed. Remus grinned rather apologetically. Feeling a little more comfortable, Hermione continued to talk.

"I just realized that we missed dinner completely," she remarked. "And I'm rather hungry, fancy a trip down to the kitchens with me?"

Lupin looked rather reluctant, but Hermione tugged on his arm imploringly.

"C'mon, it'll be fun! And I bet there'll still be some dessert left over. Think of it! Mounds and mounds of treacle tart and chocolate eclairs just waiting for us down there!"

At the sound of 'dessert', Lupin's face lit up. His adoration of sweets was hardly a secret, and now that he thought about it, he _was_ pretty hungry. Smiling sincerely now, he got up and then offered Hermione his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. As they walked back up to the castle, he said good naturedly, "You, my girl, can be very persuasive when you put your mind to it."

* * *

The next day was interesting, to say the least. When Remus walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, everyone turned and stared at him. Much as he tried to fight it, he could feel his normally pale face heat up and turn bright red. The distance to the staff table seemed much longer than usual, and he could not have been more relieved when he finally reached it and slumped down in a chair. His relative comfort only lasted for a second as he realized who, in his haste, he had sat next to. He yelled (rather loudly) and jumped up again. Snape didn't look any happier to see him, but did not jump up due to the fact that his concussion had yet to heal. Remus felt a fair amount of vindictive pleasure when he saw that most of Snape's head was covered in a large white bandage. It made him look quite ridiculous, and Remus would have laughed, had the situation been different.

As it was, Remus and Snape glared at each other in complete and utter hatred until Professor McGonagall came and shooed Remus off to the opposite end of the table. Since it seemed that he would not be allowed near Snape for quite some time, Lupin took out his anger on his pancakes. When they had been thoroughly chopped up and mashed into little bits, he left the Great Hall and went up to his room to prepare for the first lesson. He almost cried when he remembered that it would be with the sixth year Slytherins.

When they finally showed up, the first thing Draco Malfoy said was, "Hey Lupin, how's Julia?"

Remus closed his eyes as a fresh wave of pain engulfed him. It was going to be a long lesson.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way through the halls to Defense Against the Dark Arts, their second class of the day. All the Gryffindor sixth years had resolved not to talk, or even think about what they had seen yesterday. It would do no good for anyone. But when they reached the door to Professor Lupin's classroom, they quickly realized that not everyone had been as thoughtful as them. Malfoy was coming out, flanked by his usual cronies Crabbe and Goyle, and talking in loud tones to another Slytherin boy.

"Did you see his face when I was talking about his sister? God, he looked like he was about to hurl! And he was still trying to teach us about – what was it? Vampires? Oh man, he is so pathetic! You know-"

WHAM!

Harry, finally breaking free of Hermione's restraining grip, slammed Malfoy up against the wall.

"Shut up!" he screamed, "Shut up about things you don't understand!"

He pulled one fist back and was about to award Malfoy with a broken nose, when he felt someone grab hold of his arm.

"Let go!" he yelled.

"It's alright Harry," someone said in a quiet, but commanding tone, "It's not worth it. Just let him go."

Reluctantly, Harry let Malfoy slip away. He turned around, ready to shout at whoever had stopped him, and came face to face with Professor Lupin.

"P-professor?" he stammered. Lupin smiled understandingly. "Wh-Why did you stop me? Malfoy was insulting you sir!"

Lupin chuckled, thoroughly surprising everyone in the hallway.

"He's been insulting me for the past month, it doesn't mean anything. That's just the way he is, and no amount of broken noses will ever cure him of it. I do thank you though, for standing up for my honor. I'm touched," he said sincerely. Harry grinned at him. The Remus Lupin he knew and admired was back again.

"So, if you could all just go in, we can begin class…"

A/N: Sorry if this one was kind of stupid, I had a tad bit of writer's block. Kind of pathetic I know, since I had like a month to write it...


	5. Chapter 5

Werewolf, Chapter 5 

To Remus' relief, it hardly took any time at all for most people to forget about that day in the Hall, and what they had seen. Life quickly returned to its regular pattern; the Slytherins were nasty to everyone, the Gryffindor House Quidditch team won a close match against Ravenclaw, Harry and Ginny finally confessed their feelings for each other, and an entire third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class, including their teacher, was sent to the Hospital Wing after an especially exciting incident involving a crate full of Chinese fireworks and a baby dragon.

It was mid – October when Dumbledore came to see Remus. He and his class had been traipsing around the upper floors all afternoon, learning how to detect and subdue a swarm of dust-demons and, needless to say, they were all covered from head to foot in what seemed to be about a hundred years worth of filth. When they came into the room, looking remarkably similar to the ghosts that wandered the halls, and Remus saw the Headmaster sitting there, looking unnaturally care – worn and tired, he immediately knew that something was wrong. He dismissed the students early, shooed them out of the room, and then sat down on the desk across from Albus. He got straight to the point, the Headmaster didn't look like he was in the mood for any beating around the bush.

"What's wrong Albus? What's happened?"

Dumbledore met his eyes with a look of intense regret. Lupin's stomach lurched as he remembered the last time he had looked at him like that. The words that followed were the same ones Remus had come to dread over the past year.

"I'm sorry Remus, but the Order needs your help again. In the underground."

Lupin blanched.

"Wh- Why?" he stuttered. Albus looked even more pained as he replied, "It seems as though Voldemort is once again trying to rally supporters. Only this time…"

Dumbledore paused and stared down at his wrinkled hands, as if reluctant to go on.

"This time…what?" Remus urged, though he was not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"This time…he wants ferals."

Remus almost fell off the desk. "Ferals!" he hissed. Out of all the things Dumbledore could have said, this was the worst. Ferals were quite possibly the most dangerous dark creatures known to man. They were vicious, cruel, eternally bloodthirsty, and almost impossible to kill. Magic didn't affect them, they were immune to everything but silver and the attacks of other werewolves. Lupin was surprised that Voldemort even bothered to try and recruit them, they respected nothing and would just as soon kill an ally as an enemy.

Remus' voice trembled noticeably as he said, "And you want me to spy on them."

Albus nodded sadly. "I know that this isn't fair, Remus, but you're the only one who can do this."

Lupin nodded reluctantly. "I know." He paused, took a deep breath to steady himself and said, "Alright. I'll do it."

Dumbledore looked relieved. "Thank you," he whispered, so softly that Remus could barely hear him.

"When's he meeting them?" Remus asked.

"Tonight."

The bottom dropped out of Lupin's stomach. Tonight. In a couple of hours, he was going to be in the middle of a pack of bloodthirsty ferals. What had he gotten himself into?

Dumbledore slid off his desk and walked over to him. Gripping his shoulder in one wrinkled old hand, the Headmaster said softly, "I'm sorry. If there were any other way…" He sighed and squeezed Remus' shoulder once more.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, and left the room. Lupin sat there for a very long time.

* * *

A small food fight had broken out at the end of the Gryffindor table. Ron, who always forgot to swallow before he talked, finally drove Ginny off the edge. They had been talking about that day's Quidditch practice, when suddenly Ron got a faceful of chicken pot pie. It only got worse from there.

Harry was distracted, however, when he saw Professor Lupin enter the Great Hall, looking as though he was on the way to the gallows. _What could possibly have happened to make him look so…scared?_ Harry thought, just before an entire spoonful of beef stew splattered all over the front of his robes.

After they had been thoroughly disciplined by Professor McGonagall who, despite her best efforts, didn't manage to keep from laughing when she saw Neville covered from head to foot in sour cream, Harry searched out Lupin once more. There he was, still sitting at the opposite end of the table from Snape, looking as white as snow. He nudged Hermione and pointed this out to her.

"Why d'you reckon Professor Lupin looks so terrified?" he whispered, so as not to get the entire table in on the conversation. Hermione shrugged, but scanned the staff table, as if searching for clues.

"Look!" she hissed, and pointed to Professor Dumbledore. Harry looked over, and saw the Headmaster staring down the table at Lupin, concern and - was it possible? _pity,_ in his eyes. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, eyes wide.

"But what does it mean?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," she said, "But I know how we can find out."

* * *

"I think you're getting too tall for this thing, Harry." Hermione whispered from underneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"Shut up!" he hissed, irritated. "I'm trying to hear what they're saying!"

Lupin and Dumbledore stood inside the gate to the grounds. They were talking in low voices, but the invisible pair didn't dare get any closer than they were, lest they be detected. Professor Lupin looked as though he was about to be sick, but tried to exude confidence anyway. He nodded at something Dumbledore said, and the Headmaster reached inside his cloak for his wand. He touched the younger man's face with it, and muttered something. Hermione gasped as Lupin's face melted and changed before their very eyes. His usually smooth forehead now jutted out from under thick, black hair, his nose elongated and curved, as if it had been broken many times, his normally closely shaved face now bristled with unkempt black whiskers, and three long, white scars reached from his temple down to his cleft chin. The two teenagers gaped at their now unrecognizable teacher. But Dumbledore wasn't done. Taking Lupin's hands, he touched them with his wand also, and suddenly, long, sharp claws sprouted from the end of each fingertip. Harry clapped his hand over Hermione's mouth to keep her from screaming. The Headmaster stepped back to admire his handiwork. He nodded absentmindedly and said something they couldn't hear. The strange man who was Lupin grinned, and they all got a glimpse of white, glistening canines, each one sharpened to a knife's edge. But the smile was short – lived, and before they knew it, Lupin was outside the gate. He said one last thing to Dumbledore, who gripped his arm tightly, eyes bright with unshed tears. And then Lupin turned into the darkness, and with a pop, he was gone.

* * *

When they finally reached an abandoned classroom, Harry and Hermione pulled the cloak off. They both had expressions of complete shock on their faces.

"What was that all about?" Harry demanded to no one in particular. Hermione just shook her head, stunned. She sat down on a stool and hugged herself. If what she had seen was not some figment of her imagination, then she had a pretty good idea of what that was all about.

"I think," she began, "that Professor Dumbledore was disguising Lupin as a feral."

"A what?" Harry asked, confused.

"A feral. A werewolf who lets their wolf mind take over their human one."

Harry still looked baffled. Hermione sighed, and continued.

"If you had read that chapter on werewolves that Snape assigned to us in third year, you would know this. Anyway, a werewolf has two minds. A human one, which has control most of the time, and one of a wolf, which takes over during the full moon. Sometimes, when the human mind begins to weaken, the wolf mind pushes its way through to dominance. When this happens, the werewolf becomes what is known as 'feral'. A wolf controlling a human body. The characteristics that Dumbledore gave Lupin are common in ferals. Sharp teeth, claws on their fingertips, sometimes, their eyes turn golden, like a wolf's."

"But why would Dumbledore want Lupin to look like a feral?" Harry interrupted.

"You remember when I said that Lupin was a spy in the werewolf underground?" Hermione asked. Harry suddenly understood.

"You think the Order needs Lupin to spy on the ferals?"

Hermione nodded.

"That's exactly what I think."

* * *

Remus Lupin was experiencing something he had hoped never to experience again. The feeling of his own blood running through his fingers. Stumbling along in the dark, he almost laughed at the irony of it all. Here he was, practically thirty years later, and he was still limping along in some godforsaken forest in the middle of the night, running away from monsters. He coughed violently, and grimaced as the unforgettable taste of blood filled his mouth.

_Where's the goddamn castle?_ he thought darkly. He had tried to Apparate as close to it as possible, but in his state, it was amazing that he had been able to Apparate at all. Suddenly, his legs gave out from under him and he pitched forward onto the ground. He could feel himself begin to slip into unconsciousness, and he struggled to get up. If he fainted now, he would die of blood loss before anyone found him. But he realized that he was fighting a losing battle. Pulling out his wand, he tapped his face and hands and muttered an incantation. If he died, at least he would die in his own form, and not in the form of a complete stranger. The last thing he saw before he succumbed to darkness was the moon, high in the sky, taunting him…

A/N: Just to let you know, I borrowed the idea of feral werewolves from the fic Oblivious.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry if I confused anyone with that last chapter. When Remus is in the woods and he thinks, "…practically thirty years later, and he was still limping along in some godforsaken forest…." etc, he's saying that it's practically thirty years after he was attacked as a little boy. It is really the same night as the rest of the chapter.

Werewolf, Chapter 6

Hagrid was not having a very good morning. He had been hoping to sleep a little late, seeing as it was Saturday, but it was not to be. Fang's incessant whines and scratches at the door woke him up at a far earlier time than he would have liked, and no amount of yelling or threats could make the dog shut up. Finally, muttering curses under his breath, he got up and yanked the door open. Fang leapt out and took off into the forest, howling madly. Shaking his head bemusedly, Hagrid put the kettle on and fell back into bed.

Fang ran through the forest at a dead run, following a scent he would know anywhere. Blood. He crashed through the undergrowth as the smell grew stronger and stronger. Finally, he reached a small clearing and found a man lying on the ground, his bloodstained face turned to the sky. Cautiously, Fang approached the wounded man and nudged him with his nose. No response. Fang whimpered and licked his cheek. Still nothing. The enormous dog sat on his haunches and looked down at the human, wondering what he should do. The man obviously needed help, and fast, but Fang had no idea how to give it to him. Then he thought of Hagrid. His master would know what to do. Without hesitation, he took off back to the gamekeeper's hut.

Hagrid had just poured himself a nice cup of hot tea, when he heard whining and scratching at his door. Opening it, he said, "I 'ope tha' was worth my gettin ou' o' bed!"

Fang didn't seem to notice his master's displeasure. He jumped up and down and barked and pulled at Hagrid's pajama sleeve.

"Wha' is it now?" Hagrid demanded, rather annoyed.

Still keeping a tight hold on the gamekeeper's sleeve, Fang started to lead him into the forest. Hagrid was having none of that though.

"Oh no ya don'," he said, pulling his dog back. "Ah'm not goin' in there righ' now! It's way too early, an' besides, ma tea'll get cold."

Fang was desperate. The man in the forest was dying, was perhaps already dead, and all Hagrid could think about was his blasted cup of tea! He watched helplessly as his master went back inside and sat down at the kitchen table. Suddenly, he had a stroke of inspiration. Dashing inside, he took Hagrid's pillow in his teeth and streaked back out.

"HEY! Come back 'ere with tha'!"

_Dumb, stupid, idiotic dog…_ Hagrid thought moodily as he chased Fang into the forest. _What has gotten in to him?_

"Fang! Come back 'ere with ma pillow!"

The dog didn't pay any attention to him, and kept running. Hagrid tripped on a root and fell face first into a pile of wet leaves.

"Yer gonna pay fer this ya dumb dog! Stop righ' there!"

And to his surprise, Fang did. Hagrid advanced on him angrily and yanked the pillow out of his mouth.

"Look at this thing," he muttered. "Dog spit 'n bite marks all o'er it…"

He looked up, ready to give Fang the punishment he deserved, but the words died on his lips. Directly behind Fang, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, was Remus Lupin.

"Oh no…" he whispered, mangled pillow forgotten. Remus looked as though he had been through a meat grinder. His thin chest was bare, and long, bloody slashes stood out against his pale and scarred skin. It looked like somebody had hit him repeatedly with a beater's club, one arm lay at a rather odd angle, and blood poured from a wound beneath his hair. There was a bite mark on his left shoulder, right above the collarbone, and three deep cuts ran down the right side of his face. He looked unmistakably dead as he lay there, his entire body covered in early morning frost. Hagrid didn't dare to hope as he approached the inert form and felt for a pulse. He nearly cried when he found one, weak and sporadic, but there nonetheless. Leaving his pillow on the ground, he gathered Lupin up in his arms and, trying to ignore how frail the young man's body felt, quickly made his way up to the castle.

* * *

Harry had a difficult time staying awake at Quidditch practice that morning, as he had stayed up practically all the previous night waiting for Professor Lupin to return. Ron had known something was up when he and Hermione had come to breakfast looking like a pair of zombies, and they had filled him in on the entire thing. Ron had been slightly hurt that he had been left behind, but when they came to the part about Lupin growing claws and sharp teeth, he paled and said that he didn't blame them in the slightest.

As Harry flew around the pitch, shouting tips to his teammates, he found himself thinking about the whole business of ferals. From what Hermione told him, they didn't sound too bad, not as bad as dragons, or trolls. But the look on Ron's face when they told him about Lupin's feral disguise told him otherwise. Ron had looked absolutely terrified, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was something Hermione had failed to mention…

"Harry, look OUT!"

Harry looked round and saw that, in his slightly zombie – like state, he had begun to fly directly towards one of the goal posts. He tried turning to avoid it, but it was too late. He hit it straight on, and the last thing he remembered before blacking out was the snitch fluttering just out of reach…

* * *

Harry woke up in the Hospital Wing some time later. He was sporting a large, white bandage on his head, which reminded him of the one Snape wore when he got a concussion. Smiling slightly at this, he examined his surroundings. On the bedside table, there was a note from Ron. Picking it up, he read:

_Dear Harry,_

_If you wake up while we're gone, don't worry. We'll be back in a little while,_

_we just went for some lunch. What happened? One minute, you were flying fine, and _

_then WHAM! you hit a goalpost! I've never seen you do anything like that before. _

_Blimey, you must have been more tired than I thought! Oh, and just something of interest,_

_check out who's in the bed next to you, you might get a little surprise. See you in a bit!_

_Cheers, Ron + Hermione_

Harry looked over to see what Ron was talking about, and saw Professor Lupin lying in the bed next to him, completely covered in bloodstained bandages. His stomach gave a lurch. Lupin looked more dead than alive, his skin was ashen gray and his chest barely moved as he breathed. Even as Harry stared, Madam Pomfrey bustled over and pulled the curtains around the professor's bed closed. Then she came over to Harry and started talking animatedly as though nothing had happened.

"How are you feeling, Harry dear?" she asked. "Not too bad, I hope, you have a rather nasty concussion. They seem to be plentiful this year, you're about the fourth one I'd say."

She tutted in a motherly fashion as she checked Harry's bandage.

"Well, not as bad as it could be, but I'd still like to keep you here for the night. I'll see to it that your meals are brought up."

Harry was too shocked to make his usual protests against being kept in the Hospital Wing any longer than he absolutely had to. Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at the unusual behavior of her most frequent patient, but decided that today was just her lucky day, and left it at that.

Ron and Hermione came in a little later, bearing food from the Great Hall. Gratefully, Harry attacked his lunch. Between bites, he explained to them how it came to be that he ran head on into a goalpost. They found the whole situation quite amusing. But when he had finished eating, they moved on to more serious topics of discussion. Such as the man who lay in the bed next to Harry's.

"What d'you suppose happened?" Ron asked in a hushed tone. Harry shrugged.

"Maybe he was caught spying," whispered Hermione, "and the ferals attacked him."

Ron looked doubtful though. "Hermione, d'you think Dumbledore would have sent Lupin if he wasn't a good spy? He's got to be really good at blending in and not getting caught."

"Well, I don't know what else could have happened." Hermione said. She sighed, and they sat in silence for a while, staring over at the curtains which shielded Lupin from view. Suddenly, Harry realized something.

"Hey, I have to stay here tonight anyway! Maybe I can find something out!" he exclaimed. The other two looked excited, but before they could say anything else, Madam Pomfrey shooed them out, stating that a certain teenage boy needed to sleep if he ever wanted to leave the Hospital Wing.

* * *

_State the sequence of events leading up to the First Goblin War, and the effects the war had on the wizarding world in two paragraphs._

Harry threw down his quill in disgust. He was just not in the mood for practice N.E.W.T.'s, especially ones on History of Magic. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the clock. Five after ten. Yawning, he placed his books on the bedside table and lay down. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if Lupin was ever going to wake up. Resolving to stay awake until he did, Harry took off his glasses and rolled over on one side. But despite his best efforts, it wasn't long until his breath evened out and he drifted off to sleep.

When Harry woke a few hours later, he wasn't sure what had disturbed him. The Hospital Wing was as silent as the grave, and just as dark. He was beginning to nod off again, when he heard something from the bed next to him. Rustling, as though Lupin was moving around.

"Professor?" Harry whispered. When he didn't answer, Harry retrieved his glasses and wand and cautiously stepped out of bed. Stealthily making his way across the floor, Harry drew back the curtains that surrounded Lupin's bed and stepped inside.

"Lumos," he whispered. Light blossomed from the end of his wand, revealing a half – naked Lupin, curled up in a little ball on top of sweat – soaked sheets. He was shivering violently and lashing out at random intervals, as if fighting off invisible enemies. Whimpering, he turned over so that his back was to Harry. In the light from his wand, he could see scars both old and new lacerating the pale flesh. Even more alarming was how thin the man was, his backbone and ribs were clearly visible. He whimpered again, and Harry nervously put a hand on his shoulder. Shaking him, he whispered, "Professor…Professor Lupin…wake up, it's just a dream…"

He nearly screamed when Lupin suddenly grasped his arm in one cold, shaking hand and pulled Harry's face down to his. His blue eyes were wide and terrified, and the scars on his face stood out red and livid against his skin.

"Are they gone?" he hissed. Harry mouthed wordlessly, too scared to answer.

"Am I dead?"

Harry shook his head and tried to find his voice.

"N - no, you're alive…you're in the Hospital Wing," he rasped. At this, Lupin calmed down somewhat. He loosened his death grip on Harry's arm.

"The Hospital Wing," he repeated.

"Y- yes sir." Harry stammered, straightening up. He tried to calm his breathing as Lupin uncurled himself and lay on his back, face to the ceiling. Suddenly, they heard footsteps approaching quickly. Lupin tensed, looking as though he was ready to leap at whoever opened the curtains, but it was only Madam Pomfrey.

"What is going on in here!" she hissed as she took the scene in. "Harry, what are you doing out of bed?"

Harry mumbled something unintelligible.

"What!"

"I said Professor Lupin was having a nightmare. It woke me up."

"Well, go back to bed, this has nothing to do with you," she snapped.

"Yes ma'am."

As he took his glasses off, he heard her say to Lupin, "Well, now that you're awake dear, you might as well go see Professor Dumbledore. He wanted to see you as soon as you were awake, do you think you're up to it?"

Lupin mumbled something Harry couldn't hear. Madam Pomfrey sighed in response.

"I knew you'd say that. You could just say 'no', and he would understand, but you never give yourself a break do you? Here, drink this. It'll ease the pain a little. Lean on my shoulder, I'll help you get up there…"

Harry heard them slowly leave the Hospital Wing. As they passed his bed, he was surprised to hear Lupin whisper, "G'night Harry."

"Goodnight Professor," he whispered back. The silence returned, but it took a very long time for Harry to get to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Werewolf, Chapter 7 

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! It really inspires me to know that people enjoy this story. Sorry this update was slow, school just started. I'm in the high school this year, AAUUGGHH! Actually, it's not bad, but homework definitely cuts in on writing time. Well, hope you enjoy it! Please R&R!

Harry woke the next day feeling entirely healed. Madam Pomfrey removed the bandages and proclaimed him fit to leave. As he dressed, he glanced over at Professor Lupin's bed, but the curtains were once again drawn around it and there were no signs of movement from behind them. Harry desperately wanted to know what Lupin and Dumbledore had talked about the previous night, and why it was so important as to pull a half – dead man out of bed and up eleven flights of stairs, but he knew that he was not privy to that sort of information. Huffing in frustration, he exited the Hospital Wing and made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Finding Ron and Hermione was easy, he sat down between them and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He related to them the events of the previous night, but they didn't seem overly curious.

"It's Order business Harry, they're not going to tell us so you might as well stop stressing over it," Hermione stated before burying her nose in the Daily Prophet. Ron seemed equally uninterested, and they spent the rest of the meal in silence. But Harry couldn't stop thinking about the terrified look on Lupin's face, the way he had trembled with fear when he heard Madam Pomfrey's footsteps… Looking up at the high table, he saw Dumbledore chatting amiably with Professor Sinistra, no traces of worry or concern on his face at all. Either this was all a false alarm, or the Headmaster was a very good actor. But Harry couldn't help but think that something very bad was going to happen, and soon. He only hoped that they would be ready.

* * *

Remus lay in the Hospital Wing, staring listlessly at the ceiling. It would be another week, at least, before he had the strength to do anything other than hobble back and forth from the bathroom. He sincerely hoped that Albus had found someone other than Snape to teach his classes in his absence. But the Headmaster had much bigger things on his mind, things that Remus had put there…

He had reached the meeting just as it was beginning. Lupin was hard - put not to show his fear as he skirted the main crowd and approached the platform on which Lord Voldemort stood in all his glory. A cold chill forced it's way down his spine as he focused on his best friend's murderer. The eyes that did not belong to him narrowed to angry slits beneath the unfamiliar bushy black eyebrows. He wasn't stupid enough to try and exact his revenge on this hateful shell of a man, but God did he want to. He wanted to make the Dark Lord pay for all the pain he had caused, all the people he'd killed, all the children he had orphaned… But no, even as his heart called to attack, his mind called forth the cold truth. If Remus attacked, he would be killed, like so many before him. And right now, the most important thing he could do was lie low, listen, and hope to hear something of Voldemort's plans for these hateful creatures.

The Dark Lord raised his hands. The ferals seemed to sense the power emanating from the snake – like creature before them, for an instant later, they were silent.

"Creatures of the Dark, shunned for so long, hated by so many, I give you hope!" he shouted. He looked around at the wild faces before him and continued. "How long has it been since you tasted the flesh of humans? How long has it been since you were truly free? Ten, twenty years? What if I said there was a way to end your suffering? A way to bring you pleasure and satisfaction for the rest of your lives?"

_He's playing the crowd_, thought Lupin.

"I can help you get what you want!" Voldemort continued. "I can give you everything you ever dreamed of! There is just one thing I ask in return."

The ferals were hanging off his every word. Some were drooling. Lupin's heart sank. Voldemort had these killing machines in the palm of his hand.

"The only thing I ask is that you help me bring down the ones who have been oppressing you for so long! Get them out of the way, and you will no longer have to hide in fear and shame! You will be hailed as heroes, and you will be treated as such! Who's with me?"

There was a roar from the crowd. Lupin pretended to join in even as his heart filled with dread. After a minute, the Dark Lord raised his hands again. The ferals quieted down.

"I thank you, and promise you that all I have said will come true! Your first mission is this…"

Remus waited with baited breath, listening intently.

"The village of Anstierre is a major wizarding village. That will be the target of your first attack, on the night of the full moon. Leave none alive. Also, elect a leader, someone to whom I can give the details for the next mission. Is everything clear?"

There was a roar of assent. Voldemort nodded, and Disapparrated. Lupin started to make his way toward the forest to his right. He couldn't Disapparrate in front of the ferals, or they would know he had been spying on them, and would change their plans. But before he had gone ten feet, a particularly nasty looking, grizzled old man stepped in his path.

"Where you goin'?" he demanded, spitting through rotten teeth.

"Uh…" Lupin gulped. This was not good. Not good at all. A couple other ferals had noticed the situation and were now gathered around the two men.

"Umm…home?" Remus guessed. He was not even sure if ferals had homes. Desperately trying not to look as terrified as he felt, he attempted to dodge around the dentally challenged man.

"Tho thoon?" lisped Rotten Teeth Man, grabbing Lupin's arm with inhumanly strong fingers.

"We still haven't picked our leader yet," another man said. Remus immediately named him Scraggly Beard Man.

"Um…" squeaked Remus, "I wasn't really planning on, um, running, if you know what I mean…"

"Yer new to the pack, arentcha?" asked Rotten Teeth Man. Remus, not knowing what else to do, nodded. Maybe this would explain his obvious nervousness.

"Well, the way thingth are run here, if we're choothing a leader or thomethin', we have a fight out."

Remus bit back a whimper of fear. He had no idea what a fight out was, but he had a feeling it was not going to be pretty. Rotten Tooth Man was pushing him back toward the center of the field, where all the other ferals were gathered.

"Jutht get in there and do what cometh naturally," the old man said, as if this were a perfectly good explanation. Then he shoved Remus into the crowd and disappeared.

_Peachy. This is just peachy. I can't leave now, or they'll know something is up_, thought Remus nervously, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. _What the heck is a fight out anyway? Sounds dangerous. _He was saved from any further dark musings by a sudden commotion on his right. Two brawny ferals were tearing at each other with tooth and claw, a merciless look in their golden eyes. As Lupin watched, other fights broke out, each one as ferocious as the one next to it. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, Remus finally realized what the term "fight out" meant. A gigantic battle, everybody for themselves, and whoever won was the undisputed leader. It was barbaric and supremely stupid, and if Remus had been anywhere other than where he was, he would have laughed at the sheer pig – headedness of the ferals' system of government. But he was not in the calm safety of his office at Hogwarts, he was right in the middle of the fray, and the murderous looking feral running straight toward him was very real indeed…

Remus woke in a cold sweat, his mouth clamped shut to keep from screaming. _I'm safe_, he told himself. _I'm at Hogwarts. I'm safe._ He ran a shaking hand over his pale face, starting at the still unfamiliar marks running down it. Releasing the breath he had been holding, he sank back into his pillow and closed his eyes again. _I'm safe_, he thought once more before falling back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Was he there?"

"Yes, my lord. He was there."

"Is he wounded?"

"Very."

"Excellent. He will be too weak to fight. Is the decoy set?"

"Yes, lord. He told the old man last night."

"My plan is working perfectly. Now we must wait for the right time. You know what to do?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now go, and do not fail me."

"Never, my lord."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Another late one! Sorry about that, I'll try to stay on the ball a little better here… hope you like it!

Werewolf, Chapter 8

"Just where do you think you're going?"

Remus looked up from his shirt buttons and glared at Madam Pomfrey.

"Out." he snapped.

It was at times like these when he realized just how much Poppy resembled an attack dog. Her eyes narrowed to little slits and Remus couldn't help but wonder what she would do if he tried to get by her.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man," she barked. "You are only half healed, and there is no way you are leaving this Hospital Wing until you are completely healthy!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Honestly Remus, you're as bad as Harry!"

Lupin resisted the urge to throw something. "Poppy, I've been lying in bed for a week and a half now. If I'm only half healed, I'm going to be here for the rest of my life!"

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. "You're exaggerating, as usual."

Remus huffed in frustration and began to tie his shoes. "I've missed a week of classes already, it's not fair to the students for them to have to put up with that idiotic Potions assistant any longer."

He straightened up, grabbed his wand from the bedside table and slipped it into his pocket.

"I'm going, even if I am only half healed."

Glaring at her, as if daring her to object, he stepped through the curtains and stalked out of the Hospital Wing.

The walk to the Great Hall seemed much longer than usual, and by the time he got there Remus felt faint. Leaning against the wall outside, he took deep breaths, trying to regain some of his energy.

"Maybe I'm not as strong as I thought I was," he muttered darkly. But there was no way he was returning to that hospital bed. _I can do this_, he told himself. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The students were in the middle of breakfast, and judging by the owl feathers drifting here and there, the mail had already arrived. As he walked the length of the hall, many students turned to look at him. He stared resolutely ahead and tried to ignore the gasps and the many fingers pointing at the angry marks on his face. He was only a few steps away from his seat when a vicious pain shot through his steal healing ribs, leaving him gasping and clutching at the table. Professor McGonagall made to stand up but Remus shook his head slightly. This was not going to turn into another "let's all pity Remus, because he's put up with so much pain" scenes. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming, he managed to reach his seat and sit down. Nodding politely to Professor Sinistra, he poured himself a bowl of cereal. But before he could begin eating, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. He jumped and accidentally spilled some milk onto Professor Flitwick's newspaper. Murmuring an apology, he turned around and found Professor Dumbledore leaning over him, concern evident in his eyes.

"Remus, are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Lupin replied, perhaps a bit too fast to be plausible. Dumbledore did not look convinced. Raising his eyebrows, he said, "Oh really? So that little thing on the end of the table had nothing to do with, say, your broken ribs?"

"No." Remus replied, turning back to his cereal. The Headmaster sighed. Though Lupin couldn't see it, he was sure Dumbledore was rolling his eyes.

"Remus, you're a reasonable man. Why do you object so much to staying in bed until you're healthy?"

"Why are all of you so concerned with my business?"

"You didn't answer my question Remus."

Mentally cursing all hospitals and the world in general, Lupin turned round and said, "I don't like hospitals because I don't like feeling weak! I can take this pain, I've taken it before! I'd like to do the job I'm being paid for, not lie around feeling sorry for myself!"

When Albus didn't say anything, Remus decided to change the subject.

"Have you told the Minister? About the attack on the full moon?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Yes. Fudge is evacuating the village and bringing in the Aurors. He's hoping that they'll be able to handle the ferals."

Lupin shivered. "Good luck to them," he said darkly. "I only hope they know what they're doing." Suddenly, a horrible thought struck him. "Wait a minute. Y – you don't want…me to go down there…do you?"

He hated the shakiness of his voice, but just the thought of ever meeting a feral again made him want to throw himself off the Astronomy Tower.

"No, Remus. You did your job, and admirably. Your part in this is over." Dumbledore placed a warm hand on the distressed man's trembling shoulder.

And no matter how much Remus tried to hide it, his relief was as obvious as his fear had been before it.

* * *

Remus was greeted with grins and joyful shouts as he entered his classroom for the first lesson of the day. He smiled back and said, "I trust you all liked your substitute for the past week?"

This was met with theatrical groans and many rolled eyes. Ron Weasley summed it all up by saying, "I think I've finally met someone I hate more than Snape!"

Remus cocked an eyebrow as everyone laughed. "That's quite an accomplishment, do you think we should give him a medal?"

"Great idea!" shouted Ron, "And we can curse it to turn into a basilisk!"

For a while, nobody asked about the reason for Remus' week – long absence, or about his face. He got the feeling that they were deliberately avoiding the topic, as if they knew that he would not want to talk about it. It was Justin who finally gathered the courage to raise his hand and ask timidly, "Where were you last week anyway? And what are those marks on your face?"

All chatter was cut off, and every eye came to rest on Remus, who was leaning back on the front desk heavily. He gulped. What was he going to tell them? He couldn't say what he had really been doing, everyone knew that there were some students at Hogwarts who couldn't be trusted. But he would have to come up with some kind of plausible alibi to explain his wounds. He couldn't just say that he had fallen down the stairs, they would see through that like cellophane.

"I got attacked by, um, one of those giant spiders in the forest while I was out looking for a hinky punk for the first years. They really are quite vicious things, and poisonous too: it laid me up for this past week."

He shot a pleading look over at Hermione, who must have known that Aragog's kin were not poisonous in the slightest. She and the two boys sitting on either side of her looked doubtful, to say the least, but they didn't say anything. The rest of the class accepted the excuse with murmured words of sympathy then, to his relief, forgot about the whole thing. The rest of the period went by in relative normalcy, and at the end he dismissed the class with a sigh of relief. As expected, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed behind to talk. Hermione leaned against the desk, one eyebrow raised.

"Attacked by a giant, poisonous spider?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and replied irritably, "It could happen! Besides, what was I supposed to say? I take it you three have already guessed what really happened?"

Ron put on his best "who me?" face and pointed accusingly at his two friends.

"It was all them, I had nothing to do with it."

Hermione glared at him as Harry said to Lupin, "We have a pretty good idea, yes."

"I figured as much," Remus said. "But look, keep it under wraps okay? That kind of information is dangerous, and there are plenty of people in this school who would kill to get their hands on it."

The teenagers nodded solemnly. Remus stood and opened the door for them.

"Go on, you'll be late for your next class."

Ron and Hermione walked out, but before Harry left, Remus grabbed his arm.

"Look, Harry…" he began, and quickly stared down at his feet. "About that night in the Hospital Wing… I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

Glancing back up, he saw Harry looking at him sympathetically.

"It's alright Professor. It wasn't your fault, and I wasn't scared. More… startled." He smiled, and Remus smiled back.

"Take care of yourself, Professor."

"You too Harry."

* * *

Severus Snape glared sourly at the nearly full moon from his office window. It was time to put the finishing touches on that damned Lupin's potion. Striding into the main room, he saw his assistant leaning over the Wolfsbane cauldron.

"What are you doing?"

Litnor whirled round, wand clutched in one spindly fist.

"Just stirring the potion, master. It was boiling, you know."

Snape swore and hurried over, shoving the skeleton – thin man out of his way easily. Gazing down into the cauldron, he sighed in relief when he saw the familiar green color. The potion had not been damaged. He straightened up and helped Litnor back to his feet.

"Thank you, but you do not need to call me master," Snape said shortly. "Go and get a bottle of newt eyes. This needs to be finished by tonight."

The assistant potions master nodded and slouched off into the gloom of the dungeon, in search of newt eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you sooooo much for the reviews! They make me very happy hugs everybody . Sorry this one is kind of (okay, REALLY) short. That's just kind of the way it fit in. I'll have another one up soon.

Werewolf, Chapter 9

Remus stared morosely out the window of his office. Normally he would have enjoyed such a beautiful sunset, but not this one. Not tonight.

_Where's Snape with that damn potion?_

As if on cue, there was a sharp rapping on the door. Remus opened it and Snape pushed roughly past him into the room, a steaming goblet in one hand. He looked irritable.

"Why you can't just come down to my office and get your own stinking potion, I'll never know," he complained, thrusting the goblet at Lupin. "Here."

Remus took it carefully, with a murmured word of thanks. He downed the green potion in the goblet with a grimace.

"It tastes funny," he commented, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He gave it back to Snape, who cleaned it with a wave of his wand. "Funnier than usual, I mean."

"I assure you, it is the same as it always has been," the Potions Master said condescendingly. "Maybe it is you who is funny."

He laughed shortly at his own joke and made for the door.

"Goodnight, Remus," he said over his shoulder, and slammed the door shut. The panes of glass rattled disconcertingly.

"Git," Remus muttered under his breath.

* * *

It was dusk, and Severus Snape was in the dungeons cleaning his cauldrons.

_That's another problem with this bloody Wolfsbane stuff!_ he griped. _There's always too bloody much of it!_

He was about to whisk the excess potion away when something caught his eye. It looked like… he leaned closer to the cauldron. There! Floating freely in the green liquid were little white specks. Little white specks that were not supposed to be there.

_How did they get in there?_

There was only one possibility.

"Litnor!" Snape shouted. There was no answer.

"Litnor!" he bellowed. Still nothing. Cursing fluently, Snape strode across the dungeon to his assistant's office. Banging open the door, his stomach dropped like a stone at the sight that met his eyes.

The office was bare. There was no sign that anyone had ever been there, save a small note pinned to the wall over the desk. Snape snatched it.

_Dear Severus, _it read,

_My master has told me much about you. About how you betrayed him. How you are too scared to face him now. But I have gotten to know you over these past months, and I believe that you still have it in you to be a great Death Eater. A legend. Take my advice. Leave now. This very instant. If you come back, I will vouch for you. Heed this message, my friend, for death is closer to you right now than you can possibly imagine. With most of the staff at Anstierre to fight the ferals, this school is virtually unprotected. But then, even without the distraction, it would be nigh impossible to protect the students from their own teacher, wouldn't it?_

Suddenly it all clicked into place. The white specks in the potion. Lupin's comment about how it tasted. Litnor bending over the cauldron, wand in hand.

_He fiddled with it,_ Snape realized with horror. _Put something in that canceled it out, made it useless!_

Severus never even thought about it. The next thing he knew, he was running, running faster than he ever had in his life, up the stairs, down the hall, past the Great Hall where the students were still enjoying their dinner, unaware of the danger they were in. But even if he had been on a Firebolt, Snape never would have gotten there in time. The howl cut through the night air like a knife, stopping him in his tracks. It was too late.

His breath hitched, and he was momentarily blinded by tears of fury. He should have seen this coming! He should have been able to take a hint! He looked at the note still clutched in his hand fiercely, half expecting it to say April Fools on it somewhere. But as he stared at it, he saw near the bottom words that were forming before his very eyes. Through a haze of rage, he managed to make out one sentence:

_You can run, you can hide, but no one escapes the big bad wolf._

With a howl of fury, Snape ripped the note into confetti and let it fall to the floor. Then he turned and sprinted toward the Great Hall to warn the others.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you soooooooo much for all your reviews! I hope you like this one. Have a happy Thanksgiving!

Werewolf, Chapter 10

It was painfully obvious that something was very wrong when Professor Snape came rushing into the Great Hall, screaming bloody murder. Seeing the ever dignified Potions master running, not to mention screaming, was shocking enough, but when he turned, slammed the doors shut and slid the bolt home, people started wondering if the Apocalypse was upon them.

Snape strode down the aisle toward the noticeably empty staff table, oblivious to the bewildered looks he was receiving. Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress while Dumbledore was at Anstierre, was already standing, and the two held a whispered conversation. Minerva paled and gripped the table, as if for support.

"What's going on?" Ron hissed at Harry.

"Dunno," Harry replied.

Snape's news was passed down the staff table in a flurry of hushed exchanges. It was met with incredulity, fear, and in some cases, anger. Anger which seemed to be directed mostly at Snape himself.

Harry and Ron were about ready to burst with curiosity when Professor McGonagall finally decided to let the students in on the little secret. She stood and, with a rather frazzled look on her face, said, "I am sorry to inform you that the Wolfsbane potion Professor Lupin needs in order to retain his human mind on the full moon has malfunctioned."

Gasps echoed throughout the Hall. Several girls screamed softly. But Minerva was not done.

"Tonight, Remus is not your teacher, he is a werewolf, and for your safety and his, you will all be staying here for the night. Please do not panic, this Hall is very secure and I assure you, you are all very safe."

They panicked. Dinner was forgotten in an instant as hordes of frightened students attempted to escape the Hall, forgetting, in their fear, that the werewolf would be waiting for them right outside the door. Draco Malfoy was making vague comments about what his father would do when he found out, and Crabbe and Goyle were crying for their mothers. But all this was lost on Harry, whose blood had frozen at McGonagall's words. He sat in shock for several long moments, and then turned to Ron, who looked just as terrified as Harry felt.

"Hermione," Ron whispered in horror.

* * *

Hogwarts' official bookworm was in the library. No surprise there. But you can bet she was surprised when she walked out, toting a full book – bag, and came face to face with a very angry, very vicious, not so cute and fuzzy werewolf. She could tell it was a werewolf by the shape of it's snout and by the tuft at the end of it's tail. Naturally, she screamed, dropped her bag and whipped out her wand, not entirely sure what she was going to do with it. 

"P – Professor Lupin?" she stammered, her wand pointed directly at the lean, gray wolf in front of her. The only response she got was a low growl and a glimpse of sharp, glistening canines.

"Oh no," Hermione whispered, her heart in her throat. This was not her dear Professor any more. She backed up slowly, books forgotten, wand still between her body and those teeth. The wolf advanced cautiously, hesitantly. If Hermione hadn't been out of her mind with fear, she might have wondered about this. Werewolves were not cautious creatures. Why was this one not attacking?

Suddenly the wolf leapt forward and with one snap of it's jaws, relieved Hermione of her wand. She yelled and jumped backwards, only to feel the cool, rough hardness of the wall meet her back. She was trapped. Whimpering slightly, she met the golden eyes of the werewolf in resignation and whispered, "I'm sorry Professor Lupin. I'm sorry to do this to you."

Then she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

* * *

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but that is just not possible! No students are to be allowed out of this Hall until morning!" 

"But Hermione's out there!" shouted Harry desperately. "What about her? Is she not a student?"

Professor McGonagall looked at the indignant boys before her sadly and said, "Miss Granger's situation is indeed regrettable. But to make matters worse by letting her two best friends go out and get themselves killed is out of the question! I'm sure Miss Granger would agree with me whole – heartedly, were she here. Now, off with you both!"

But Harry and Ron still looked mutinous.

"Can't one of the teachers go and look for her?" Ron argued.

"Mr. Weasley, as you can see we are rather shorthanded right now," Minerva said, gesturing to the handful of teachers trying to restore order to the Great Hall. "We cannot spare anyone to go gallivanting off in search of one student while there are four hundred here who need protection!"

At this, Harry blew up.

"We're not helpless you know!" he shouted. "We can take care of ourselves! Besides, nothing can get to us in here! We're about as safe as we can possibly be!"

But Minerva just glared at him and said firmly, "Nobody is leaving this Hall tonight, and that is final."

And with that, she turned and joined the other teachers trying to calm the masses.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, anger and despair evident in their eyes. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Ron beat him to it.

"I dunno about you," he said, "But I'm not gonna let _that_ stop me!"

Harry nodded firmly. "I'm with you. Let's get out of here."

"And let's try not to get caught." Ron added with a grin.

"Right." Harry agreed.

* * *

Litnor shivered, though not from the cold. 

_I hate this house_, he thought bitterly. But it was up to his master where they met, and Litnor wasn't about to complain.

He crept along until he reached a door issuing cracks of light into the dark and musty hallway. Knocking softly, he heard his master's voice calling him in. Visibly trembling, he pushed open the door and stepped into the fire – lit room. Only fools and madmen weren't scared out of their wits in his master's presence. It was this power that had first attracted Litnor to the Dark Lord, and it was what kept him loyal now. A new recruit, he fancied himself a favorite of Lord Voldemort, as he had already been given a most important mission. It gave him the utmost pride to be able to inform his master that he had been successful.

"Good, good…" hissed Voldemort when he heard how well his plan was unfolding. "You will be rewarded William, when this is over."

Litnor was hard put not to rub his hands together gleefully.

"Thank you master, you are too kind, thank you…"

Voldemort settled himself once more in the large armchair in front of the fire. The room was silent for several long minutes, but finally Litnor gathered the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him all night.

"M – my lord?" he stammered nervously. Voldemort turned his head slightly. Litnor took this as a sign that he could continue, and asked quickly, "M – master, I was just wondering, what if this Lupin is not up to the task? What if his wounds hinder him enough for them to get an opportunity to strike? What will happen if he fails?"

The Dark Lord gave a thin – lipped smile as he continued to stare into the fire.

"You need not worry, Litnor," he said. "Lupin will have all the help he needs."

"W – what?" Litnor stuttered in surprise.

Voldemort continued to smile.

"Reinforcements are joining our dear Professor even as we speak."

"Reinforcements! But…but how will they get into the castle?"

At this, the snake – like creature in the armchair laughed out loud.

"That, my friend, is where Albus Dumbledore will finally lend us a hand."

* * *

Hagrid was having a hard time believing his eyes. Was that really the Headmaster? Being supported by Professor Sinistra and Professor Sprout? Maybe the weak light of dusk was playing tricks on him… But the light conditions couldn't have conjured up the voice that cut through the peaceful silence like a knife. 

"Open the gate Hagrid! Quickly!" Sprout snapped. But Hagrid hesitated.

"Thought y'all was at Anstierre, figh'in them ferals," he said suspiciously.

Professor Sinistra rolled her eyes.

"We were, Hagrid! But as you can see, Albus is hurt. Now open the gate!"

But Hagrid was still unsure. He made no move to let them in. Professor Sprout pounded on the magical barrier with her fist and shouted, "Do you want him to die, Hagrid?"

He hesitated, then shook his head.

"Then open the damn gate!"

Finally, the enormous gamekeeper relented. Fishing for the right key in one of his many pockets, he approached the gate. Unlocking it, he swung it open, and the two women dragged Albus inside. Hagrid closed the gate again, then turned back to the three teachers, fully ready to ask what had happened. His words died on his lips. The Headmaster was standing unaided, staring directly at Hagrid with wide, golden eyes. The other two had their wands out, both pointed directly at the gamekeepers chest.

"Oh," he said intelligently.

And then his world went black.

* * *

Professor Sprout, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Sinistra bent over the unconscious form of Rubeus Hagrid. The latter was smiling coldly. 

"I love Polyjuice Potion."


	11. Chapter 11

Werewolf, Chapter 11

Light. Blinding, bright light that shone through his eyelids and stained his world red. Where was he? Cold, wet wood pressed against his bare skin, sending a shiver down his spine. No. No more shivering. It hurt too much. He groaned, and tasted blood, felt it running up his throat from a pierced lung. He tried to move. Something, anything. Nothing. The darkness claimed him again.

He woke once more, this time a little more lucid. He opened his eyes, looked around, and realized he was in the Shrieking Shack. The broken, decrepit furnishing looked like a setting for a barely remembered nightmare. He looked down at himself and swore. Madam Pomfrey was not going to like this. Hell, _he_ didn't like it! Lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood seemed to be a regular occurrence these days.

If he realized that he was trying very hard not to think about something, he didn't dwell on it. At the moment, all he was thinking about was how he was going to get off the floor and up to the castle where he could sleep. His right arm was broken, he could tell that by looking. But his left still looked usable. Grabbing a nearby bedpost, he managed to haul his battered body to its feet. His mind felt strangely detached, as if he were watching everything from five feet above his head.

He started to make for the trapdoor, then paused. If he was going up to the castle, he'd better get some clothes on first. Not only would it be highly embarrassing to be seen waltzing across the grounds completely naked, it was also rather cold outside, and to add pneumonia on top of everything else would almost certainly kill him. He staggered to the three – legged dresser in the corner and yanked open a drawer. A pair of jeans that hadn't been worn in fifteen years and an undershirt that looked about three sizes too small were its only occupants. Pulling on the pants tenderly, wincing as they brushed against various gashes, he chuckled humorlessly at the fact that he had somehow gotten skinnier since age nineteen. The shirt had been there since his third year, and he decided that it would probably do more harm than good to try to struggle into it. He returned to the trapdoor, opened it, and descended into the damp tunnel. Limping along in the dark, he finally forced himself to think about what had happened the previous night.

The Wolfsbane hadn't worked, he had realized that just as he was about to transform, when it was too late to do anything about it. Remus didn't think he had ever felt so utterly terrified as he had at that moment. After the transformation, his memory got kind of fuzzy. Images came back to him, bits and pieces of a horrible reality. A girl, Hermione, trapped against a wall. Harry and Ron screaming. Shattered glass. Three others, ferals, drooling on the stone floor of a hallway. Teeth ripping at him, silver burning away flesh. Blood filling his mouth. The memories came so fast and so horribly. He gripped his head and screamed, falling to his knees on the slippery rock of the tunnel.

_No! It can't be true! I couldn't have hurt anyone! Please don't let it be true!_

He staggered drunkenly to his feet and lurched forward. He had to get to the castle, had to find out what had happened! Suddenly he tripped and fell forward onto his stomach. He cried out as his head struck a rock, but wasted no time in scrambling up and continuing onward. By the time he emerged from the roots of the Whomping Willow, he was an absolute mess. Luckily, he was still aware to push the key knot to stop the tree from crushing him.

It was only until later that Remus realized what a sight he must have made lurching toward the castle, bare-chested, white – faced, absolutely caked with blood both fresh and dry, breath rattling as he struggled with his one good lung. There was a crowd gathered at the steps, and teachers, students, and Ministry officials alike all stared as he came staggering up. Seeing Minerva in the front, he grabbed her arm in one shaking hand and hissed desperately, "What happened? What did I do? Did I hurt anyone? Is everyone okay?"

She just stared at him in disbelief and shock, her mouth hanging open. Remus shook her lightly.

"What the hell happened, damnit!"

But he would get no answer, for at that moment the silence was broken by an animalistic howl. Lupin looked up and met the golden eyes of the most vicious looking feral he had ever seen. The gigantic man was standing in the doorway, his attack being forcibly restrained by several hit wizards. His shaggy black hair fell to his shoulders, and he bared his sharpened teeth at Remus in an unmistakable show of aggression. Remus gulped.

With a roar, the feral threw his captors off and charged forward. Before Lupin even had a chance to scream, the feral was upon him. He grabbed Remus by the throat and threw him as far as he could, which was pretty far. Remus hit the ground with a sickening crack and rolled until he hit a tree.

_There goes one leg…_ he thought darkly. And then the feral was on him again, biting and clawing wherever he could reach. Frantically, Remus elbowed him in the face, breaking his nose. The feral howled and rolled off him, giving him a chance to scramble away. He hadn't gotten far when something caught hold of his hair and pulled him up off the ground. Remus yelled as he felt his scalp pull away from his skull. Without thinking, he lashed out with his good leg and got the feral right where it hurts the most.

_That'll keep him busy until the cavalry arrives. I hope._

The feral dropped his squirming captive and fell to his knees, moaning in pain. He didn't even struggle when the hit wizards shackled him and shipped him off to Azkaban.

"Have to remember that one," one of them muttered before apparating.

Remus lay on the ground, coughing up blood and praying that this was all just a bad dream.

_Maybe if I just go to sleep, I'll wake up and everything will be back to normal,_ he mused as his eyes closed. _Yes…that's a good idea…_

* * *

Hagrid, still recovering from his rather nasty attack, knelt by the inert form of Remus Lupin and gathered him in his arms. A sense of déjà vu washed over him as he realized that this was the second time in a month that the young man had lain in his arms as though he were dead. He tried to hide the worst of the professor's wounds with his large body; the students had already seen enough bloodshed. Hagrid hurried to the Hospital Wing, ignoring the dismayed murmurs of people he met along the way. Bursting into the relative calm of the Wing, he shouted for Madam Pomfrey, who came at a run. He laid Remus on a nearby bed and left to find Professor Dumbledore, just recently returned from Anstierre. The occupant of the adjacent bed and her visitors gaped as Poppy rushed off to get supplies.

Harry stood and, on shaking legs, walked around Hermione's bed and approached their teacher. He touched Lupin's shoulder gently, and gazed down on his sleeping face.

"D'you reckon he'll pull through?" murmured Ron in concern. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know." He was about to put a blanket on the professor when Lupin began to cough. Deep, explosive hacks that brought blood to his lips and woke him up. He met Harry's eyes and seemed about to ask something when the coughing started again. He rolled over into the fetal position and gripped his chest. Blood stained the white sheets in front of his face. Harry stood there helplessly, reaching out to help, but not quite sure what to do. Suddenly Madam Pomfrey was there, pushing him out of the way impatiently. She bent over the shaking man, her wand moving so fast they could barely see it. Gradually, the coughing lessened, and then stopped. They all breathed a sigh of relief. Madam Pomfrey was reaching for a bottle sitting on the bedside table when Lupin grasped her arm in a grip hard as iron.

"Poppy…" he murmured. She bent down to hear him. "Poppy, what… what happened? What did I do?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at each other in concern. Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened slightly. Lupin looked around at them all desperately, body shaking with fear and the effort of sitting upright. But when his eyes fell on Hermione, sitting in the bed next to him with a bandage covering her left arm, he froze.

"No…" he rasped, "It can't be…" His eyes filled with tears. Hermione looked mortified.

"I – I'm sorry Professor. I'm so sorry." Her voice choked with emotion. Ron patted her shoulder awkwardly. Harry looked down at his shoes. And Madam Pomfrey took the opportunity to inject Lupin with Dreamless Sleeping potion. He slumped back down onto the bed, his tortured eyes closing immediately. His hand fell from Madam Pomfrey's sleeve, leaving a bloody print. And Hermione broke down in tears.

A/N: Sorry for the long time coming (seems like I say that every time I post a chapter). Please forgive me if this one was kind of bad. Next chapter: Dumbledore explains everything!

Thank you for all the reviews, they really help!


	12. Chapter 12

Werewolf, Chapter 12

"Do you want me to wake him up, Headmaster?"

"No, no, Poppy. Let the man sleep. Even he couldn't deny that he needs it."

"Yes I could."

His voice was a low rasp, and the two people hovering over his bed jumped in surprise.

"Remus?" It was Poppy. "Remus, how are you feeling? Any better?" She lowered a hand to his forehead, but he batted it away weakly.

"Never mind that, I need to speak to Albus."

The formidable school nurse crossed her arms over her substantial bosom and said imperiously, "Alone, I presume?"

He rolled his eyes and replied, "I don't really care, Poppy. So long as he tells me what I want to know and doesn't treat me like I'm seven."

It was a little harsher than intended, and she stalked off looking rather offended, but Remus didn't waste many brain cells on regret. He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back against the wall, ignoring Dumbledore's disapproving look and his own discomfort, and looked his employer straight in the eye, as if daring him to lie.

"Albus, I want to know what happened here last night. I want to know what I did, what that feral was doing here, and above all, what happened to Hermione Granger's arm. And if you even _think_ about leaving things out, or stretching the truth a little because you think it would be better if I didn't know, _I will strangle you._ Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

The Headmaster looked quite taken aback by the ferocity of Lupin's words, but he managed a small smile and said quietly, "I have no intention of lying to you, Remus. I was going to wait until you were a bit better, but I can see that's not going to happen. So I'll just start at the beginning, shall I?"

His former student just gaped at him, obviously surprised that he wasn't spending an inordinate amount of time beating around the bush.

"Close your mouth Remus. It wouldn't be pleasant if a fly got in there, would it?" The man's jaw closed with a snap. "Now, where was I? Ah yes, the beginning. Well, I guess this all started when that new Potions assistant showed up."

"Litnor? That idiotic, skulking, weasel of a man?"

"That's the one. Anyway, he wasn't really a Potions assistant. He was a servant of Voldemort."

"Figures. I suppose it was him that sabotaged the Wolfsbane?"

"Yes, that's right, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. You remember how he always, as you put it, _skulked_ around?"

Remus recalled the various times he had seen the skinny little man prowling the corridors at strange times of the day. "How could I forget? Creepy man, that one."

"Well, it seemed that there was a method to his madness. He was collecting hair, you see."

Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Albus, I have heard of stamp collecting. Book collecting. Card collecting. Hell, even _flobber worm_ collecting! But I have _never _heard of hair collecting."

The Headmaster chuckled. "Perhaps I phrased that poorly. He was collecting hair for Polyjuice Potion."

"_Polyjuice _Potion?"

Albus nodded. "In the end, he found strands of hair from Professor Sprout, Professor Sinistra… and me."

Realization dawned in Remus. "So… whoever drank the potion would be able to enter the school… undetected."

"Which is exactly what they did last night."

"Who did?"

"The ferals. Three of them. Just before sunset, probably when you were getting the potion from Snape, they came to the gate and pretended like I was hurt. Hagrid let them in, they knocked him out, then transformed and entered the school."

"Oh god…" Remus buried his face in his hands, feeling as though ice water was pouring into his stomach. But, peeking through his fingers and seeing the empty beds surrounding him, he realized something that made his brows snap together.

"Wait a minute… was Hermione the only person hurt last night?"

"Besides you, yes."

"But – but… the ferals! Even if everyone had had prior warning and gotten themselves into the Great Hall, there are tons of secret passages leading into it that the teachers don't know about! Surely the ferals or… or I… would have found one of them!"

At this, Dumbledore stood, walked over to the door and beckoned to someone outside. He came back, closely followed by a nervous Hermione Granger. Unable to look at the bandage on the girl's arm, Remus fixed the Headmaster with an inquisitive stare. When the two had reached the bed, Albus spoke again.

"I thought I would leave the rest of what happened to someone who was actually there. Miss Granger?" He turned to Hermione, who was gazing at her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor with a mixture of fear and pity that scared Remus immensely, and said, "I will pass onto you the same warning this polite young man gave to me. If you even _think_ about leaving things out, or stretching the truth a little because you think it would be better if he didn't know, _he will strangle you._"

Despite the tension of the moment, Remus found himself blushing furiously. Hermione's eyes lit up with mirth, and the corners of her mouth twitched, but it was short-lived, as if the darkness of horrible memories pushed the happiness away.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, I'll remember that," she said seriously. The Headmaster nodded and turned to leave the Hospital Wing. Suddenly, Remus remembered something.

"Wait a minute, Albus?" The old man turned.

"Yes?"

"What happened? At Anstierre, I mean."

Dumbledore paused for a moment and looked at his old student thoughtfully.

"They never came. It was undoubtedly a distraction, something to get me out of the school."

Remus nodded. "So the ferals are still out there, somewhere."

"They are indeed. When you are better, we shall have to look for them."

Not waiting for an answer, the Headmaster turned and strode from the Hospital Wing, dark blue robe trailing in his wake.

Tentatively, Hermione pulled up a chair and sat down, wide brown eyes fixed on her teacher's stricken blue ones.

"Her… Hermione…" he began, but she shook her head.

"No. I'm going to tell you what happened, and I won't be able to do it if you keep asking questions."

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. She took a deep, shaky breath, and began.

"I was in the library when it… happened. I came out and you were there. Well, it wasn't really you it was… the wolf. Anyway, the wolf cornered me and – and looked like it was about to finish me off when it smelled something. It just took off and – I know it was stupid of me, but I followed it. It ran to the entrance hall, and by the time I got there, it was already fighting those… ferals. One of them tried to get at me, but the wolf stopped it. It was then that I realized that you had come back. Somehow… somehow you had gotten control, and it was _you _fighting those monsters. Not because it was your territory, or something like that, but because you were protecting us!"

A jolt of surprise ran through Lupin. He had regained control? How could that have happened? He knew from experience that the wolf mind was a powerful and vicious adversary. Never had he gained any semblance of control over it, or heard of someone else doing it. But what else would explain his failure to attack Hermione?

The girl continued to speak. "Well, you were fighting them, but there were three of them and only one of you. I could tell you were in trouble, and I tried to help. But… I dunno… my mind went blank or something, and I couldn't think of any of those spells you taught us. All I could think about was one of them accidentally hitting you. And then Harry and Ron came. They got out of the Great Hall somehow, and they came and started hurling spells around. They didn't know which wolf you were, or that you were back in control. I tried to stop them but…" Her voice choked with emotion. "You had already killed one feral, and wounded another when the silver knife hit you. You went down, and the remaining two attacked us. Harry got the wounded one and Ron managed to knock the other one out, but when we looked around, you were gone."

Remus swallowed. He could tell by Hermione's guilty expression that she had deliberately avoided the part involving the bandage on her arm. He gestured to it now.

"And… and where'd you get that?" he whispered in dread. She cradled it with her other arm and stared at the floor.

"One of the ferals got to me before Ron could knock him out. I guess… we share something now."

Impulsively, she reached out and grasped his hand. He glanced down at their interlaced fingers in surprise, then looked back up at her.

"You didn't do it."

Her voice was sincere, her eyes warm. He gazed into them, searching for the lie he knew was there. The lie she would tell in order to protect him from his own self – hatred. But there was nothing, only honesty and… something else. Suddenly he was trembling.

She released his hand and brought her fingers to his face. He flinched at the foreign touch, backing away instinctively. She moved from the chair and sat on the bed, close to him. She stroked his face until he relaxed, realizing that she wasn't going to hurt him like so many others had.

"You didn't hurt me…" she whispered. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Remus felt his shoulders begin to shake. He tried to control himself, but the emotions were too strong. Gasping, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her shoulder.

Outside the open door, two boys smiled at each other. A wizened, white – bearded wizard sighed contentedly. A pudgy nurse brushed a tear from her face. A gigantic gamekeeper placed a hand the size of a dinner plate on the head of his enormous boarhound. And they all thought the same thing.

It was going to be all right.

A/N: Aaaand it's over! I actually didn't expect this to be the end; it just kind of turned out that way. Sorry if the idea of the feral biting Hermione is a little far – fetched: I just couldn't bear to have Remus bite her. I hope this ended in a satisfying fashion. On to my other story, Seeker!

Reviews would be loverly.


	13. Epilogue

A/N: I know it's been like, a year (okay, two months), but I just felt like this needed an epilogue.

Werewolf, Epilogue

Remus shivered and pulled the cloak closer around him. His breath froze in the cold winter air and mingled with the breath of his companions. A trill of excitement, fear, and nervousness flowed through him. This was it. This was the moment they had worked for, prepared for. He only hoped it would all pay off.

It had been two months since the attack on the school. One month since Remus had helped Hermione through her first transformation. Three weeks since the feral pack had reemerged and attacked a Muggle village without warning. And six days since Remus had become a spy for the Order once again.

As they had suspected, a raid was planned for that night's full moon. The ferals would attack the town, kill all who came in their paths, wreak havoc and despair everywhere they went… the works. The only thing they had not anticipated was the army of Aurors waiting for them. Remus had done his job well.

As night approached, however, Remus fought the fear threatening to overtake his mind. He couldn't help but remember the last time he had been in a situation like this, and the condition he had been in when he emerged from it.

_I must be crazy,_ he thought wryly as he removed his cloak. _But then, I already knew that._

The moon rose, and chaos reigned.

* * *

It was late the next night when Remus finally returned to Hogwarts. The operation had been a success, for the most part. A few ferals had escaped the trap, and were still at large, but they wouldn't be for long. The young werewolf professor felt content to know that his part in the whole business was over, and that he could go back to the job, the place, and the people that he loved.

Remus walked silently through the halls to his rooms; already forming lesson plans for the next day in his head. He couldn't wait to see all his students, but one student in particular jumped to the forefront.

He unlocked the door and stepped into the main room. He immediately caught sight of her, curled up on his couch with one of his sweaters as a pillow, the worry lines and newly formed wrinkles smoothed over in sleep. A few strands of gray stood out in her bushy brown hair, signs of her newly acquired condition. He smiled, and walked over to her.

Stroking her face with one scarred hand, he settled himself down on the floor next to the couch and laid his head against the cushions, right next to her hand. It only took a few minutes for him to fall asleep, here, where everything felt so right.

A/N: Incredibly stupid and pointless, I know, but what the heck?

PLEASE REVIEW!


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